


I'll Be Seeing You

by OhCaptainMyCaptain



Series: Stucky Porn Prompt Challenge [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Dirty Talk, Feels, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, I know it might seem confusing what's going on at first, It all makes sense at the very end, M/M, Plot Twists, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Seduction, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Bucky Barnes, Unhappy Ending, Warning: NSFW GIFS/images at the end of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhCaptainMyCaptain/pseuds/OhCaptainMyCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mon Steve,” Bucky coos jokingly. “Try n’ get me to come home with you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Seeing You

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt: I'd love to see something that starts off with Bucky jokingly trying to get Steve to show him his seduction techniques/pickup moves, and then it quickly escalates. But I'm going to throw a wrench in your plan and ask if you can also make it angsty (I love your angst), and somewhere (I don't care where), maybe throw in a plot twist."**
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been sending me prompts, kinks, etc. for this 30 Day Stucky Challenge. I've gotten some really damn good ones, so please continue to send me your requests either here, or on my [Tumblr](http://ohcaptainmycaptain1918.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> [This song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aw0ajy1nbbo) fits this fic perfectly in my mind (unfortunately, I can't listen to it and NOT cry, so listen at your own risk).
> 
> **I do not own any characters, settings, plot lines, concepts, or terminology as created, used, and owned by Marvel Entertainment, LLC ®. This is a work of fanfiction. Furthermore, I do not authorize the re-distribution of this story for the purposes of downloading, printing, or posting the story in its entirety on any other websites without first attaining my consent. Thank you.**

Steve can’t get drunk, but he finds himself at the bar.

Steve can’t get drunk, but he finds himself drinking anyways.

Alone. That comes as no surprise; for all intents and purposes, he supposes that maybe Dugan or Falsworth would be there to join him, and if he tried to go look, he’s sure he could find Peggy. Peggy may not care for the drink, but if Steve asked her, he guesses that she may want to dance.

Steve can’t get drunk, but he finds himself in a bar in the middle of Germany. There are people all around him, and they talk, but he can’t hear what they’re saying. This doesn’t seem strange to him. There’s no bartender – Steve sits at the countertop on a stool, all alone – but his glass never stays empty regardless. His lips part and then seal over the rim of the glass; tilt it, watch the liquid slide towards him, feel the burn in the back of his throat – the momentary warmth in his belly – as it goes down smooth.

He wishes he could get drunk. It’d make everything hurt a lot less.

He’s in a bar in the middle of – Germany? No, it looks different now; familiar. Steve can’t get drunk, but he finds himself at a bar in Brooklyn. There are a lot of memories within these walls; ones he never wants to let go of, and ones he just wishes he could forget. It’s no less crowded but still, no one talks to him. Across from him is a mirror on the wall. It’s cracked and could use a good washing. Steve looks at it; sees himself staring back, and his reflection tutts and makes a sorrowful sound because _he’s all alone and it’s just so sad._

He can feel someone approaching him from his left. From his peripherals, he acknowledges them getting closer and closer, but he just keeps staring at himself in that mirror and absentmindedly twirls the amber liquid around in his glass.

The stranger sits down beside him. Their smell is familiar.

“Bit pathetic to be getting shitfaced all by yourself, ain’t it?”

Steve knows the stranger’s voice all too well, but it just isn’t possible, it just isn’t. Eyes widening, he startles and turns his head to take in the sight of Bucky staring right back at him, smirking as though Steve’s world hadn’t fallen apart around him. Steve can’t believe it, he just can’t, because how can Bucky be here? How can he be here when the last time Steve had seen him, he’d been reaching out desperately to grab his hand, with a look of naked terror that Steve had never seen him have before.

The last time Steve saw his best friend Bucky, he’d been falling from the side of a train with a scream that replayed over and over again in all of Steve’s nightmares.  

“Buc… Bucky…?”

That shit-eating grin still hasn’t left that familiar face – familiar like _home_ , before serums and wars and Tesseracts and super soldiers. He just chuckles and slaps a hand onto Steve’s meaty shoulder and replies, “Course it’s me – we said you’d owe me a drink after that whole shit show on Zola’s train, didn’t we? Now c’mon, I _want_ my drink.”

Steve can only stare, wide-eyed and in a stunned silence. Bucky hardly notices; he suddenly has a full glass of whiskey in his hand, even though there’s no bartender, but that doesn’t seem strange to Steve. The only thing that he can’t believe is that Bucky’s right _there_. He’s right there when he _shouldn’t_ be, but he _is_.

He watches Bucky take a nice big swig of liquor and then eye the glass in his hand as he swallows. He makes a loud, satisfied, _ah_ sound and then gives Steve another boyish smirk. “Much better than the shit we used to pilfer back in Brooklyn, that’s for sure,” he drawls, accent particularly thick.

“We’re in Brooklyn now,” Steve answers, even though his brain is too fuzzy to form many other coherent thoughts.

Steve can’t get drunk, and he should be in Europe, and yet he’s in a bar in Brooklyn with Bucky and it’s only Bucky’s being there that seems out of the norm to Steve.

“Are we?” Bucky asks in genuine surprise, glancing around. “Huh. Well, it’s good to be home, then.” He raises his glass half-heartedly into the air and then downs another sip.

Steve’s mouth is dry; his chest, too tight. “How are you – I don’t…”

Bucky pauses, setting his eyes on him. He swallows and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, setting the glass down with a soft _clink._ For a second, the brunet doesn’t seem to know what to say. But then he’s forcing a casual smile and saying, “C’mon buddy, don’t get all sappy on me. You’re actin’ like you’re hardly glad to see me.”

When Bucky reaches out and punches Steve lightly on the arm, Steve’s reflexes kick in without thought. Bucky’s fist is _just_ pulling back from the contact when the blond’s right hand flies up and grabs his wrist, holding Bucky’s outstretched arm in place. Bucky’s _here_ and he can _touch_ him. Steve can’t wrap his head around it.

The way he’s staring at Bucky makes Bucky’s smile drop. For a moment, all they do is stare into each other’s eyes and then Steve’s bringing up his left hand – shaking – and tentatively touches the tips of his fingers to Bucky’s cheek. He isn’t quite convinced yet that this is real, but here he is, _touching_ Bucky, who’s all flesh and blood and _breathing_ and not falling thousands of feet to his death, and it makes no sense and yet Steve’s too astonished to question it much.

He presses his palm to Bucky’s cheek, feeling the stubble beneath it scratch and tickle his skin, and then cups the side of his face with sad, awe-filled eyes. The second he does that, Bucky inhales quietly through his nose and exhales unsteadily, closing his eyes. His brows knit and create a little wrinkle between them as Bucky turns his face slightly, into the touch.

Steve lets go of Bucky’s wrist and leans forward in his stool, wrapping that arm around the middle of Bucky’s back while the hand that’d been cupping his face adjusts so Steve can throw his arm around the brunet’s shoulders. Burying his face into the space where his best friend’s shoulder meets his neck, Steve hugs Bucky to him tightly and abruptly.

He can hear the quick rush of air leave Bucky’s lungs as he’s compressed a bit too tightly, but Steve doesn’t get pushed away either. “Hey…” he hears Bucky murmur slowly, before a hand is pressing to his back and he can feel Bucky sliding his arms around Steve’s torso in response. “Steve… Hey, it’s okay…”

The sound of his voice only makes Steve pull the body in his arms to him tighter. He can’t make sense of any of this but if Bucky’s here and he’s with him and he’s _alive_ , Steve can believe in miracles and selfishly take it without much of a fight.

“I don’t know how you’re here,” he says quickly; his voice, wobbly and on the verge of tears. “I don’t know _how_ this is possible, I – I just don’t care, _Buck_ , I thought I’d lost you.”

“Steve…”

“I thought I’d lost you,” he repeats.

He can feel Bucky rubbing his back. “Steve, everything’s going to be okay,” the brunet murmurs. For the first time in what feels like _decades_ , Steve lets himself think that for once, that might be true. “You really think I’d let you get rid of me that easily? Huh?” Bucky jokes softly, chuckling quietly next to Steve’s ear. And that one sound – so precious and nostalgic and enveloping everything Steve’s been so painfully missing – breaks him.

“I’m _sorry_!” he chokes, unable to help the broken sound that he sobs into the fabric on Bucky’s shoulder. _Christ_ , his best friend is dressed in those same clothes he’d been wearing the day that Steve had _rescued_ him. It makes no sense and Steve refuses to question it. He needs this. “I know I… I know I’m being a real chump right now but, I just, Buck, I’m so sorry. I should’ve done more, I should’ve had your hand, I should’ve _gone looking for you_ \--”

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky interrupts firmly, taking him shoulders and guiding Steve back so he could look into his eyes. “None of that is your fault, ya got it? I could never blame you, not in a million years.” Steve’s face is red and his sky-blue eyes are only getting brighter when they gloss over as a thin sheet of incoming tears fills them. So Bucky grabs the side of Steve’s neck in a clasp and gives him a light shake. “I mean it, Steve. It’s _not_ your fault.”

He doesn’t blink, but a tear slips from the corner of his eye anyways, rolling down his cheek. He tries not to shudder when Bucky sees it, makes a small, sad clucking sound with his tongue, and then wipes it away with the thumb of his left hand.

“I should have tried to go back for you,” Steve insists weakly. “I just… I didn’t even think it would’ve been a possibility. I couldn’t see your body, Bucky. I wouldn’t have been able to stand it.”

“Steve, I’m right here, you see me clear as day,” Bucky insists, frowning.

Steve can only continue to stare at his face, his hair, his clothes; take in the musky scent that had always been exclusively _Bucky’s_ from the time they were young. He can even smell the cigarette smoke off his breath, even though he hasn’t lit a single one since he got there. They’re all features that Steve feels he hasn’t seen in a century, even though it’s probably only been a few weeks, maybe months.

“I felt so numb after it happened,” he says quietly, clearing his throat and casting his eyes downward. “This is the first time I’ve _felt_ anything since you fell. Buck…” Frowning miserably, he takes a deep breath and looks back to him again. “How can it not be my fault when if I’d been faster - maybe a bit _better_ \- I could’ve grabbed your hand in time?”

“No, you listen to me,” Bucky answers sternly, cutting the bullshit. He points a finger at Steve. “Red Skull, Zola, _all_ those little _pricks_ at Hydra, _they’re_ the ones to blame. They were the reason we were even on that train to begin with. _They_ did this, Steve, not you.” Steve’s surprised when Bucky grabs his chin roughly between his thumb and index finger and the brunet leans in a bit, eyes wide and firm. “You gotta stop blaming yourself, okay? You’re my… my best bud, Steve. I know you did everythin’ you could; it’s pointless to keep torturing yourself. You can’t hold on to that shit in the past, man, y’know? You keep livin’ there and you’re never gonna be able to let yourself have a future. I always told you, kid, you were meant for somethin’ really fuckin’ great. You can’t let that shit go to waste, and I’m _not_ talking to Captain America here. You _know_ I’m talkin’ to you. So keep your chin up and forgive yourself, k pal? For me?”

Steve is barely breathing. His vision is still blurry with tears but he forces himself to nod as he averts his eyes, sniffling quietly and quickly wiping his eyes to pull himself together. He clears his throat and asks, “Can you stay? Are you gonna stick around?”

Bucky picks his glass back up and smiles warmly. “Do ya _want_ me to stay?”

Steve gives a small nod. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t think I could say goodbye twice.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You think maybe you can just… stay with me for a little bit and talk?”

“Steve, stop makin’ me sound like some floozy who’ll bail on ya – I’m right here and you n’ me are gonna get drunk together, just like the good ole’ days.”

Steve can’t get drunk, but he chooses not to remind Bucky of that. So he just picks up his glass and they clink them together before taking a swig. Bucky watches him carefully, in that way that almost borders on _adoring_ ; the same way he’d always looked at Steve growing up, that seemed to become less and less appropriate and justifiable the older they got. Steve can remember vividly how Bucky had given him that exact same look the night before they’d infiltrated and took down Zola’s train. For the longest time, Steve couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he’d never see that face again, even if he didn’t know how he’d ever come to deserve it.

“It’s good to see you, Steve.” Bucky says. “Hasn’t been that long since we last saw each other, has it? Feels like forever ago. You look real good though,” he adds with a gentle smile.

A small, crooked grin quirks up one side of Steve’s mouth. Their glasses are full again even though there’s still no bartender but it doesn’t seem strange to either of them. “You do, too.” (Because even looking a little disheveled for the wear, in crumpled, mangy clothes and dirty, sweat-stained cheeks, Bucky _always_ looks good.) “I’m sure I look pretty much exactly the way you remember me.”

“Yeah, you do.”

They exchange smiles and go back to sipping from their drinks. After a minute or so, Bucky notices Steve staring down distractedly into his drink. He raises a brow and curiously asks, “What’s on your mind, champ?”

Steve shakes his head, brows creased, and then exhales a barely audible chuckle. “I just… I can’t believe you’re here, you know? That I can look over and see your face and hear your voice – it’s just… strange. But it’s nice,” he quickly adds.

Bucky pats his shoulder again and leaves his hand there as he replies, “I’m always here whenever you need me, buddy.” Steve smiles sadly, absentmindedly reaching up and closing his hand over Bucky’s. He squeezes gently and then lets go without answering. Bucky frowns – just a split second of a thing as he looks to where his hand still rests on Steve’s shoulder – before slowly letting it fall back to the countertop. “We had some real fuckin’ good memories though, didn’t we?”

Steve huffs something that resembles a self-deprecating laugh. He raises his glass in the air. “The best,” he replies and they both take another big sip. He eyes the liquor, swirling it a bit, before getting a tiny smile and slowly asking, “You remember the time you snuck into Mary-Beth Johnson’s window to sneak her a kiss and her pa wound up sickin’ his dog on you?”

Bucky groans and rolls his eyes. “And that mutt chased me all the way back to the orphanage?”

Steve laughs. “You were so scared, you practically jumped outta your skin when Mrs. Burke’s little yippy thing barked at ya the next day from across the street.”

“ _Hey_ , that dog’s bark was a _lot_ bigger than its bite,” Bucky snaps back. Steve heckles him for a while longer until they’re both falling into old habits; going back and forth, discussing all of their favourite memories from over the years, as they laugh and shove each other and down glass after glass of liquor – even though neither of them get drunk and Steve never knows how their glasses keep getting refilled.

Steve doesn’t remember leaving the bar – or even getting up from his stool – but suddenly, after what feels like hours, he’s suddenly walking down the old familiar streets of Brooklyn with his best friend by his side. The night is clear but the streets are empty, and that’s not quite right, but Steve doesn’t notice how strange it is. In fact, for whatever reason, it feels perfectly _normal_.

He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks as they walk in silence and exchange grins every minute or so. Eventually, Bucky breaks the silence by saying casually, “I gotta ask you somethin’, and don’t get all sore with me or blow your wig.”

Steve frowns curiously and casts a glance at him. “What.”

Bucky seems to be trying to choose his words carefully before giving him a strange look, even though he’s still smiling. “How come you ain’t never told me before that you liked the fellas?”

Steve stops walking; freezes on the spot. He can’t get drunk, and he was in a bar in Germany, and suddenly a bar in Brooklyn, and now he’s walking the empty streets of home with _Bucky_ , who can’t be here and yet he _is_ , and Steve never told a single soul before about this – not _even_ Bucky – and somehow, Bucky’s asking about it anyways. For a second, he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Bucky grabs his bicep when he notices Steve wavering on his feet. “Whoah, easy there, big guy,” he says, steadying him. “It’s okay, I ain’t mad, see? I just wanted to know. I don’t know why you never told me before.” He chuckles to himself, forcing Steve to start walking again, and Steve realizes that he doesn’t even know where they’re going. “Would’a saved me a ton of trouble always tryin’ to find you a dame, ya jerk,” he adds, giving Steve a soft shove.

“I – I’m not--”

“Steve, it’s okay,” Bucky says, looking to him. “You don’t gotta lie to me.”

And something about that is so terrifying but _relieving_ , because for so long, _for so many years_ , Steve struggled to come to terms with the confusing feelings he had – not just towards Bucky, but several different boys he’d known growing up. He thought that he’d been diseased because men caught his eye the same way the dames always did for his best friend. He had tried to repent every week at Church – tried to will those thoughts away – and sometimes, he’d thought it had worked… until he was around Bucky.

Steve had never – _could never_ – tell a soul about how many times his hand had wandered beneath the elastic band of his underwear as he touched himself to thoughts of his best friend, the empty air in his bedroom catching his shallow moans and whimpers whenever he came. Those four walls were great at keeping secrets; they alone knew how difficult it was sometimes, on those nights when Bucky would sneak through his window so he could crawl into bed behind Steve and keep him warm when the seasons grew colder… How Steve would wake up to feel Bucky’s dick, hard and long and thick against his lower back or, if they’d fallen asleep spooning, _right against his ass_. Those four white walls alone knew how on those nights, Steve would listen to the steady rhythm of Bucky’s breathing as his best friend had slept soundly – while his face burned with shame as he would grind his hand as inconspicuously as he could against the bulge at the front of his own underwear.

And yet somehow, Bucky was standing right there and he’d figured it out; staring at Steve and expecting some sort of answer.

Looking at the ground and feeling like a cretin, Steve mumbles back, “It just… isn’t the sort of thing you talk about out loud. I know you’re my best friend, Buck, but… I didn’t want you to see my any differently – especially not after the serum. You were the only one who knew me back when everyone else thought I was invisible; if you suddenly thought I’d changed… I just think that would’ve crushed me. I didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable or being worried that I’d try to chase after you or make any unwanted advances on ya or something. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have done that, you know. I wouldn’t have; our friendship is too important to me.”

“You’re an asshole if you think I would’ve let somethin’ like that change our friendship,” Bucky replies with a bit of genuine hurt in his voice. He forces it away, though; giving Steve a sympathetic smile and adding, “I don’t see you no different, just so we’re clear.”

“That’s good,” Steve replies uncomfortably, though he’s giving Bucky a weird little smile.

There’s silence for a second and then Bucky jokes, “Can’t say I blame you for bein’ interested, though – I _am_ pretty.”

Steve rolls his eyes, giving him a playful shove with one hand, never breaking his stride. “Shut up, jerk. Don’t go makin’ fun.”

Bucky laughs and lays into Steve next, shoving him to the side. “You sayin’ I’m _not_? What – you too good for me just ‘cause you’re Captain America now?”

“I was _always_ too good for you, ya shmuck,” Steve shoots back, though it’s a complete and total lie. He would’ve given _anything_ growing up for Bucky to want him that way.

To his surprise, Bucky quietly replies, as if to just himself, “Yeah, that’s true.” Then he clears his throat and adopts that shit-eating grin again, turning so he’s walking sideways and facing Steve. He gestures to himself. “C’mon, tough guy,” he goads harmlessly, “tell me why you’re too good to fall for the ole’ Barnes Charm. What, am I not your type?”

“Oh no,” Steve groans, shaking his head. “I’m _not_ touching that one. You’ve had enough dames strokin’ your ego and tellin’ you how handsome you are, to last a lifetime; you sure as Hell don’t need to hear it from _me_.”

Bucky raises a brow, looking amused. “Oh, so you think I’m handsome, do ya?”

Steve stammers, cheeks burning hot, before groaning again, this time louder. “I’d forgotten how much of a dick you can be sometimes, Barnes,” he says reproachfully. “I probably should’ve guessed that you’d bust my chops a bit when you finally found out.”

Bucky just keeps grinning, walk turning into a silly strut beside Steve. “I wouldn’t have minded, you know,” he assures the blond. “I love you no matter _who_ you like to go poking around with in the sheets. But I’m disappointed, Stevie,” he adds with a mock pout. “Almost insulted that you never tried hittin’ on me - c’mon, what’s not to like? Look at this face.” And then he points to it and gives Steve to most _ridiculous_ puppy-dog eyes and pouty bottom lip Steve has ever seen.

Even though he laughs, the tips of Steve’s ears still turn bright red, because he’s filled with the urge to duck his head in and give that bottom lip and nice little bite. Purposely looking away, Steve watches their reflection pass by empty windows in the shops they walk past. It’s like the whole world is shut off; giving these two room.

“It would’ve been more embarrassing than seductive,” Steve admits. “You know just as well as I do that I sure as Hell didn’t know how to woo anybody back then.”

“You must’ve picked up some tips spending all those months with the pretty dancers in the USO tour,” Bucky points out. “A few tricks of the trade, maybe?”

Steve shrugs. “A few, I guess. Definitely helped stop me from turnin’ beet red at the sight of tits.”

Bucky barks out a laugh. “And you seemed to fair pretty well when Private Loraine came onto you that one time. And I _saw_ you with Peggy; you could actually _flirt_ with her pretty decently."

Steve frowns, his voice getting quieter. “Peggy was different.”

“How so?”

“I mean, I dunno… she’s just… _Peggy_.”

“And _I’m_ just your best pal,” Bucky quips. He stops right there and holds his arms out, a competitive look on his face. “Go ahead, lay it on me. Your best Steve Rogers pickup line – I wanna hear it.”

Steve snorts out a scoff, shaking his head. “I don’t use pickup lines, Buck, I’m not an asshole.” Eyeing him quickly, he adds with a grin, “Sorry.” And Bucky pretends to be outraged for a moment but then just shrugs in agreement, because yeah, Bucky had been guilty too many times of using a terrible pickup line to get a girl to agree to dance with him.

“You can’t ride my hide about it if they always actually _worked_ , though,” Bucky mutters, and Steve has to swallow hard because Bucky _shouldn’t_ be making _any_ sorts of comments about Steve riding his hide in _any_ way.

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head and shrugging. “This is stupid. I can’t think of anything I’d actually _say_ ; it’d be more like actions or something.”

Bucky’s grin grows. “What – you actually want to _show_ me how you’d try and seduce me, punk?”

“I never said that!” Steve exclaims, face blushing scarlet. “I was just – I was just sayin’! I wouldn’t have--”

“Steve, Steve, _relax_ ,” Bucky cuts in, palming his shoulders. His voice gets gentle when he sees how riled up he’s actually gotten the blond by accident. “You don’t gotta show me nothin’.” But then he gets that tiny little smirk. “I mean, if you’re a coward and all.” And then he’s full-on grinning again.

He can’t be serious. He’s trying to _goad_ Steve into _flirting_ with him? Steve knows this isn’t going to end well; he’s going to make a fool of himself, and Bucky’s going to laugh at him – and Steve will pretend it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it really does. But he’s just as much of a stubborn shit as Bucky is, so he rolls his eyes and bats Bucky’s hands off of him.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters. “If you laugh, I swear to God--”

“It ain’t very Catholic to take the Lord’s name in vain, Stevie.”

But Steve shoots him a look and Bucky shuts up, throwing up his hands with a cheeky grin. Steve guides Bucky back a bit, now that they’re both on the sidewalk, and Bucky leans against one of the brick walls coolly, looking far too amused. It makes Steve feel stupid.

“C’mon Steve,” Bucky coos jokingly. “Try n’ get me to come home with you.”

And fuck him, if _that_ doesn’t send a jolt of arousal to his cock. Steve clears his throat uncomfortably and looks away. They’re way too close for Steve to get hard right now; there’s only about a half meter of dead space between them, and already Steve is wondering if he should just take the title of ‘chicken’ and back out. He shakes his head and says under his breath, “This is so stupid. I can’t believe you always talk me into crap like this. Whatever, okay.”

Looking up and meeting Bucky’s gleaming eyes, Steve takes a deep breath. “So, umm… If I saw you, maybe from across the room at a nice dance hall, or in a bar or somethin’, and I could tell that you, uh… you know, _wanted_ me, I’d probably start by trying to slowly close the distance between us and getting the guts to actually come up to you… Umm, like this…”

Eyes sweeping down the space between them and then back up again, Steve takes a few stiff steps forward and slowly approaches Bucky. By the time he stops, he chest is hovering right in front of the brunet’s. Bucky maintains his smirk. “I’d, uh… I’d want to take my time so that you could feel the energy in the room around us; make sure that this was what you wanted,” he continues quietly, nerves creeping into his tone. “I’d want it to feel like your body was pulling mine towards yours, so that you knew it was still just as much your choice as it was mine.”

Steve shuffles a little bit closer to reiterate his point. Their thighs touch and it sends adrenaline shooting up his body, culminating in his brain and making it start to short circuit. It’s even worse that the second they touched, Bucky’s smile slowly faded and now he’s looking at Steve like even _he_ has no fucking idea what just happened. Nervously, Steve tries to chuckle. He looks away to gather his nerve before taking a deep breath; Bucky hasn’t stopped him yet, so he hopes it’s okay to continue.

“I’d want to make sure I looked straight into your eyes,” he says quietly, slowly doing exactly that. “I’d want to know them so well that I’d be able to paint them long after our time together was finished. I’d, uh… maybe make some sort of comment about how beautiful or hypnotic they are, or…” he swallows, because Bucky’s grey eyes really _are_ absolutely, “ _breathtaking_.” There’s a split second of silence, and Steve’s heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat. Bucky still hasn’t put a stop to their little game yet and Steve doesn’t know why. So he offers him the out by murmuring, “Umm… I can’t stop if you want me to.”

But Bucky just stares right back, eyes widened slightly and brows still knit in confusion. Steve feels like he’s about to pass out when Bucky gives a small shake of the head, _no_. Steve gulps; he’s completely making this whole thing up on the fly. He doesn’t have a _clue_ of what he’s doing.

“Okay then, umm… well… Next, I’d probably do something like… uh, step in a little closer…” He does so, and their waists and stomachs slowly press together. Steve makes sure to keep some distance between his crotch and Bucky’s, though, because he’d be mortified if his best friend could feel how hard he is beneath his slacks. He watches Bucky break eye contact; watches Bucky’s eyes slowly drop down to Steve’s lips before continuing lower, taking in the close proximity of Steve’s body to his, before coming back up and lingering on his mouth again. He can _hear_ Bucky’s breathing – no longer inaudible and steady but slightly quicker and shallow. Steve hopes it’s okay to keep going because he doesn’t think he can stop.

“Then I’d, umm… Maybe touch a part of you… Like… your neck,” he says gently as he lifts a hand and grazes his fingers to the side of the curve of Bucky’s throat. Bucky looks up into his eyes again and Steve almost _moans_ under his breath when he realizes that Bucky’s pupils have exploded. He’s _enjoying_ this, maybe almost as much as Steve is. The blond licks his lips, feeling faint, and then adds, “Or your face…”

Sliding his hand up, Steve drags his fingertips softly along Bucky’s jaw. He uses the top of his index finger to lightly trace down the line of Bucky’s cleft, before gingerly grazing his thumb across the brunet’s bottom lip. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat as he continues to stare. “Then what?” he whispers, voice cracking, and it’s the most beautiful thing Steve’s ever heard.

Steve’s mouth is bone dry and his tongue feels like lead. He can feel his pulse in his temples. “I, uh… Well, at this point, I’d probably take a moment in my head to imagine how your body would feel against mine, and, um… I guess, imagine what was to come. But while I did that, I’d keep lookin’ into your eyes and then…” He considers backing out. This is taking it too far; this will be Steve crossing a line. And yet he can’t stop himself. He takes a quick breath and forces himself to continue: “I’d probably lean in and graze my lips against yours…”

So he does exactly that; he searches Bucky’s eyes for a sign, a _hint_ of any kind for him to stop, and when he finds none, he leans in, breath coming out soft and shaky. He _just barely_ nudges his lips across Bucky’s and then breathes, “But not enough to actually kiss you… Just to sort of… Make you want more.” He can still feel Bucky’s mouth, _right_ there, _almost_ touching but not quite, and Steve’s whole body is screaming at him. “Then, umm… When I could tell that you needed it… needed _me_ … I’d kiss you.”

He doesn’t lean in; he doesn’t make good on his word, even though Bucky finds himself practically _aching_ for it. His breathing is broken and just as shaky as Steve’s. His eyes are on Steve’s beautiful mouth - and this is not how he’d expected this to go at _all_ , but then he’s slowly dragging his eyes up and meeting Steve’s baby blues again. Steve scans his expression before taking _his_ turn to take in the sight of Bucky’s plush lips. He can feel Bucky’s hands slip up and touch either side of his waist and he shivers. Bucky swallows and Steve watches the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down. He wants to run his tongue over it.

“If you don’t stop me, I’m going to kiss you…” he breathes before he can stop the words from rushing out.

And then _Bucky_ exhales a loud breath and grabs Steve by the back of his neck, pulling him the half inch in that they both needed and plastering their mouths together with a ragged, distressed sound. Steve’s cock twitches in his pants and he growls in his throat; his hands fly up and grip either side of Bucky’s face. They kiss, hot and frantic and sloppy, panting loudly as they tilt their faces back and forth and Steve presses Bucky against the wall. Until Bucky is pressing his left hand to the center of Steve’s chest and is suddenly shoving him backwards, their mouths still attached. Steve hits the wall --

And suddenly they’re inside their old apartment, and Steve hasn’t seen it since before he’d left for Basic training. They haven’t been there together since the morning Bucky shipped out to England, but here they are now, and it shouldn’t be possible, but Bucky’s hands are flying all over Steve – his sides, his arms, his neck, his hips – and his breath tastes like cigarettes and whiskey as his tongue licks hungrily into Steve’s mouth. It runs along the roof and then drags quickly against the back of his top teeth, and all Steve can do is groan and thrust his own tongue forward; his only weapon.

With frantic movements, Steve’s manhandling Bucky forward so he can crowd _Bucky_ back against the wall. When Bucky’s body makes impact with it, Bucky grunts in surprise before attacking Steve’s mouth again. Bucky gasps between kisses, as if he can’t breathe, and Steve understands, he knows the feeling so well. Then Bucky _groans_ loudly when he grinds his hips against Steve’s thigh, which Steve hadn’t realized was fit between Bucky’s legs.

Steve shudders. He’d heard all these sorts of sounds coming from Bucky during their teen years; all those times he knew Bucky was jerking off or having his way with a pretty girl while Steve tried not to eavesdrop but wound up listening anyway, his own hand down his pants from where he lay in the other room. But to hear them now and knowing they were all for _him_ …

He grabs Bucky’s wrists and pins them to the wall, and _that’s new information_ , apparently Bucky likes that because he tilts his head back, arching his throat, and groans with a nod. Steve has _no_ experience when it comes to this sort of thing with another fella – and he hardly has much experience with ladies - but he has more than Bucky _thinks_. So he leans in and licks a hot, wet line up to Bucky’s ear and then starts sucking small kisses back down. He licks over the bump of his best friend’s adam’s apple, just like he’d wanted to do.

He feels Bucky tugging lightly at his shirt, so Steve breaks the kiss to pull back and yank it over his head before grabbing Bucky’s by the bottom and pulling it up his torso. The brunet lifts his arms over his head and Steve tugs the material off; making Bucky’s dog tags clink before they fall back and hang in the center of his naked chest.

He stares at Steve with an opened mouth and lets his head fall back against the wall. Eyeing the blond hungrily, he pants softly and then pulls the super soldier back to him, shoving his hands into golden hair and kissing Steve without shame. One hand untangles its fingers from the short strands and starts feeling down the hard muscles of Steve’s back.

“You’re built like a fuckin’ brick shithouse,” he breathes, grinning; eyes still closed. He groans in his throat when Steve nips his bottom lip and then sucks on it as though it were candy. “ _God_ ,” the brunet exhales, arching his back slightly off the wall.

Steve presses his chest to Bucky’s, gripping onto his sides as he closes his mouth over his best friend’s again and their tongues beat together. One of his hands reaches up and grips the side of Bucky’s face while the other starts moving along his upper body - his side, over his peck, along his collar bone and down the arm - exploring it and the feel for the first time in detail. He hums lowly and pushes his body away from Bucky’s a little, their mouths still connected, as his hands fly to the brunet’s belt buckle and start fumbling to open it.

But to his surprise, Bucky doesn’t let him do it. He feels calloused hands grab his wrists, making them come to a halt. Shaking his head between kisses, Bucky says, “You aren’t just a fuck, Steve… We aren’t doin’ this here. Bedroom, let’s go.” And then he’s taking Steve’s face in his hands and kissing him slowly, substantially screeching things to a stop from the quick, hasty work they’d been making just seconds before. Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to explode.

Steve falters, his lips pausing against Bucky’s as he lets those words sink in. Then he exhales heavily and nods, making sure to return the kiss just as slowly, just as considerate. “Hold on tight, Barnes,” he whispers, smiling, before grabbing his best friend from under his rear and lifting, wrapping Bucky’s legs around him. Steve takes a moment to hold him in place and palm the back of his head, holding him close as his lips find purchase in Bucky’s one more time, pressing that body back to the wall. Boldly, he grinds his hips forward, earning a surprised gasp from Bucky. Steve pulls back, finally being able to achieve that drunken high that alcohol could never give him anymore, and he grins.

“Now you're _my_ beautiful little dame,” he jokes before pinching Bucky’s chin between his teeth and then slowly sucking on it.

Bucky grunts in his throat, clinging to Steve so he doesn’t fall. And Steve won’t let him, not ever again. “Don’t make me hit you, ‘cause I will if you keep that shit up,” Bucky groans. But the threat in his words is hardly backed up by his actions when he surges forward again, breathing heavily and kissing Steve’s mouth. Holding him like this, Steve can feel the hard line of his best friend’s erection pressing against his stomach, still concealed by the fabric of Bucky’s pants. Realizing that now, he’ll get to put his _hands_ on it, feel it in all the most amazing places…

He growls softly and grins into the kiss, staring to move them into the bedroom. They fall onto the bed – softer and more comfortable than Steve remembers, but _none of that seems strange to him_ – with Steve landing on top of the older boy. Bucky quickly shoves Steve to the side and then rolls them over so he’s the one on top, shimmying his way between Steve’s legs and forcing them to part so his hips can press down to the blond’s. Figuring a little payback is in order, he does what Steve had done to _him_ in the front hallway and throws Steve’s arms over his head, pinning his wrists down roughly to the bed.

Steve’s head spins, even though the whole world feels as though it’s stopped around them. Only Bucky exists, and only Bucky’s hands, and the taste of Bucky’s tongue in his mouth, and the feel of Bucky’s pelvis pressing down to grind their aching cocks together. Steve moans high in his throat, tilting his head up and trying to kiss Bucky with everything he has. He wants even more friction than what Bucky’s giving him, so he rocks his hips upwards in an attempt to seek it, earning a whine probably far too loud in Bucky’s ears.

“That’s good, Stevie,” he hears Bucky husk.

Steve’s cheeks burn and he gasps, “Sorry… Neighbours… I’ll be quiet…”

But Bucky just thrusts down harder and bites Steve’s neck, making the blond yelp, and replies, “No, don’t. No one else is home.”

And that makes absolutely no sense, _that’s not possible_ , but Bucky’s encouraging him to let it all out, not hold back, and that’s all Steve ever wanted, for so many years. So he just nods feverishly and then exhales a groan when Bucky pants in his ear, “God, the size of your fuckin’ prick… Didn’t even _need_ to do any of that shit earlier, though I gotta say… _God_ … Those were some pretty effective seduction techniques, buddy… In the future, just whip out your dick and that’ll be all the motivation I need… Would probably drop to my knees right then and there…”

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve keens, arching.

“Yeah, I can feel how badly you need me, Stevie, _shit_ you’re somethin’ else.”

Leaning back up, Bucky jerks his belt free before getting Steve’s undone before the blond can even fathom how quickly with which they’re suddenly taking things. He stares down at Steve as he lifts his hips and Bucky helps rid Steve of his slacks and underwear. He never tears his eyes away as he moves appropriately to remove the rest of his own clothing. For a second, all they do is stare at each other.

“Bucky…?” Steve whispers nervously. He reaches up and roams his hands gently along Bucky’s abdomen and chest, staring where he touches. The last time he’d seen Bucky’s naked abdomen, it had been littered with scars and traces of old wounds that Zola and his men had marked onto the skin. Now there are no blemishes. Like everything else, Steve doesn’t realize how strange this is. All he can think while he touches is, even with his imperfections, everything about Bucky has always been _perfect_. He curiously brushes his thumb over Bucky’s right nipple, hearing Bucky exhale softly to the touch and watching at the tiny nub hardens beneath the rough pad of his thumb. “You’re so beautiful…”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes having been closed as he’d felt Steve’s hands map over him. Opening them, he looks from Steve’s face, down his chest, his abs, to the leaking erection lying against the super soldier’s belly. Licking his lips, he murmurs, “ _You_ are, always have been,” before bending forward and pressing their mouths back together with a sudden tenderness.

For a while, they do nothing but kiss. Steve tries to wrap his head around everything, which causes him to worry that Bucky won’t be happy with him when all is said and done; that they’re doing the wrong thing. Breaking the kiss, he takes a few breaths and then quietly suggests, “We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to… We can just lie here. I just want you here, I don’t care what we do. Buck… You’re my best friend, I… I don’t want this to ruin…” He has to close his eyes and swallow hard to stop the emotions pooling in his chest from overtaking him.

“I want it,” Bucky whispers.

Steve opens his eyes and stares into Bucky’s. The brunet gives a tiny nod. Steve’s shaking; whispers so quietly that Bucky almost misses it, “I want _you_ …” Bucky nods more affirmatively and crushes Steve down against the mattress as he kisses him rough and possessively. When he starts moving his lips along Steve’s neck, Steve fists his hand in Bucky’s hair and blinks away tears as he stares up at the ceiling. “Bucky, I want you, please…” he chokes out.

“I’ve got you, baby, m’gonna take good care of you,” Bucky promises against the skin of his neck. He turns his face so he can lick up his palm before sneaking his hand between them as he lines their dicks up. Wrapping that spit-slick, rough hand around the both, Bucky starts to stroke them, causing Steve to whine again and pull Bucky up for another dirty kiss. Bucky twists his own wrist around them, pulling a muffled groan from him that makes Steve turn into a puddle of need.

“Fuck, Bucky…” he pants, and Bucky groans so loudly at the uttered curse that Steve jumps. The action makes for some particularly nice friction in Bucky’s hand. “You sound so sexy,” he continues, licking his lips. If these are the sounds he can hear when Bucky’s just got a hand wrapped around them, then he wants to know what can be achieved when Bucky gets his dick sucked. “Can I… Can I taste you, maybe?”

“Yes, for the love of sweet _God_ , yes,” Bucky blurts, moaning with anticipation and then letting go so he can roll onto his back.

Steve immediately covers Bucky’s body, holding himself up by his palms. Drawing on the endless amounts of fantasies he's had over the years that involved _finally_ getting to put his mouth on Bucky Barnes, he revels in kissing and trailing his tongue down the brunet’s toned body, eagerly lowering himself down until he’s between Bucky’s legs. Steve’s too lost at the moment to stop and consider the fact that he has no prior experience with this act. Like all things Steve’s ever done throughout his life, he just dives in head-first with reckless abandon; licking along the length until his tongue flicks over the head. Bucky gasps and Steve can taste the precome already making the cockhead wet. It’s bitter and tastes off-putting, but _God damnit_ , it’s _Bucky_ , it’s _Bucky’s_ pre-ejaculate coating his tongue, and that’s enough to make Steve moan loudly. Shivering, he wraps his lips around the tip and then draws Bucky into his mouth.

Thanks to the serum, Steve can hold his breath for a _really_ long time, and thanks to all those years having to have thermometers shoved down his mouth, Steve’s never had a gag reflex. He naively doesn’t realize that taking your lover’s cock down to the hilt on the first try is not exactly _common_ , so when his nose is buried in the short wiry curls at the base of Bucky’s dick and the tip is nudging against the back wall of his throat, Steve thinks he’s done something wrong when he peers up and Bucky’s looking at him in shock, brows tightly knit.

Steve makes to pull away and Bucky grabs the back of his head, stopping him. Shaking his head breathlessly, Bucky grits out, “Only stop if that’s what _you_ want. But _fuck_ , Stevie, where’d you fuckin’ learn how to do that? Taking me all the way down your pretty throat, _shit_ , _yeah_ , you always know how to throw me for a loop…”

Steve’s cock twitches at the praise. Bucky instructs, “Just suck, up and down, you know what I mean. Use your tongue and for the love of sweet baby Jesus, do _that_ again.”

So Steve does, because he’s a born soldier and has always been good at following orders. He listens for those sounds that Bucky makes that means he’s doing something particularly enjoyable, and he doesn’t dwell on one given thing if it doesn’t evoke the same reaction. He makes sure to suck Bucky deep into his throat because that seems to be what his best friend likes best, and swallows a few times when taking breaths through his nose, making Bucky’s hips stutter up in surprise, shoving even _deeper_ into his mouth.

All the while, Bucky tugs on Steve’s hair and writhes beneath him, breathing out instructions and encouragements because Bucky never _has_ known how to shut up. Steve’s never liked it when he could hear Bucky fucking a beautiful dame, but right now, he thinks it’s his new favourite thing.

“Yeah, baby… Baby… _God_ … Knew that pretty mouth of yours was good for more than just sass-talkin’, Rogers, _oh!_ Mmm… Just like that… Fuck… That’s so good… Just the tip, suck the tip, ohh _Christ Almighty_ … Ngghh… Bit of teeth… Bit of teeth, it’s okay, baby, just… scrape ‘em lightly, right below the tip, just… right… _Fuck!_ Stevie, oh God, ohhhhh _God_ , yeah… I love your mouth… Love your pretty fuckin’ mouth… Love your tongue; love you suckin’ me, Stevie… Unhhh _God,_ God, I’m losin’ it…”

After a few more enthusiastic minutes, Steve feels Bucky get hotter and harder against his tongue; tastes more bitter beads of precome. He’s disappointed when Bucky yanks his head away, eyes practically black. Tugging the blond back up his body, Bucky sits up and meets him halfway for a kiss, fumbling as they flip back over so Bucky’s weight can push Steve into the mattress. Steve likes that feeling; Bucky’s body has always made him feel so centered.

“Must’a made you feel pretty darn good,” Steve chuckles breathlessly at the feeling of Bucky’s lips frantically messaging back and forth along his jaw while Bucky ruts against him, as if unsure how to carry himself anymore.

“Steve, shut up,” Bucky grunts harmlessly, now looking in the side table for the jaw of Vaseline.

Steve mouths at Bucky’s naked shoulder before scraping him teeth over the joint. “Shut me up then… _God, Buck_ …”

Having found the small tin jar and abandoning it next to Steve’s head, Bucky takes Steve’s chin in his hand and moves Steve’s head back so the blond is looking up at him. His grey eyes drill holes into Steve’s baby blues; the air around them practically crackling with the energy between them. Softly, Bucky caresses his thumb along the skin just below Steve’s bottom lip, causing it to tug open slightly. Bucky’s eyes are sparkling with a heated mirth as he murmurs sensually, “Steve… _shut up_.”

As if were even _possible_ , Steve’s pupils tremble and then dilate _larger_. He licks his lips, opening his mouth as if to speak before thinking better of it and then closing it again. In an act of boldness, he slides his hands down Bucky’s back until they run over the firm curve of the brunet’s ass. Squeezing gently, Steve speaks _anyways_ , because even though he’s always been good at following orders, he’s also never been one to let rules deter him.

“Fuck me,” he whispers, and Bucky bites his lip and groans again.

“Every time you fuckin’ curse, I _swear to God_ , Steve…”

“ _Fuck_ me,” Steve repeats, stressing the ‘ck’ sound, just to mess with Bucky’s head. “Now, please…”

Bucky grabs the Vaseline and opens the lid with shaking hands. He dips three of his fingers in, scooping out a generous amount. “You’ve never done this before, yeah?” he asks Steve, who shakes his head, blushing. “No, that’s okay. That’s real good, Stevie, it means you’ll be nice and tight for me. I gotta start with my fingers or else it’ll hurt.”

“I don’t care,” Steve argues obliviously, impatient for the feel of Bucky’s cock stretching him open.

“Well I _do_ ,” Bucky retorts. He shuffles, opens the space between them up a bit, so he can bring his slick fingers to Steve’s tightly-puckered hole and start rubbing his middle digit around the rim. Steve startles a bit at the touch and Bucky just chuckles affectionately. “See, baby, you have no idea what you’re doin’. Aren’t you glad you got me here to take such good care of you?”

“Bucky…” Steve whines, low in his throat, as he tries to push himself down against that finger.

“Steve, I’m serious, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Bucky sighs, dropping the act.

Steve pulls Bucky down by the back of his neck and kisses him. “Super serum, remember? I’ve been shot, been kicked, been beaten down… I could take it all… Bucky, you’re not gonna hurt me, I _promise_ you. You could stick all three of those fingers into me at once and I guarantee I could handle it.”

Bucky stares hard at his face, hesitant. Frowning, he arches an eyebrow and compromises, “ _Two_.”

“Fine, two, just do it,” Steve says quickly, chasing Bucky’s lips back.

Bucky pauses, unsure, and then squeezes them tightly together and slides them in. Steve’s definitely tight, even _more_ so than just virgin-tight because the serum brings everything – even that – to the next level. It’s a Hell of a squeeze, but Bucky’s still able to push them all the way in to the knuckles on the first try. It _does_ hurt a bit and it’s more a weird sensation than anything, but it’s such a relief too that Steve arches sharply and releases a long, languid moan.

“Fuck me with ‘em,” he pleads, purposely choosing his words carefully so he can drive Bucky insane. “Get me ready and then I want your cock in me, _please_ …”

The guttural groan that earns him, vibrating in Bucky’s chest and up his throat, is rewarding, but not _nearly_ as much as when Bucky obliges and starts moving his fingers around inside of him. Within a minute, he’s able to work the third finger in there, and then he’s holding onto Steve’s side to steady him as he thrusts his fingers in and out of Steve, first slowly, and then fast and deep. The first time he stumbles upon Steve’s prostate, Steve thinks his back is about to break from so tautly snapping up into an arch as he shouts his pleasure into the air of the room.

“Your asshole looks so nice wrapped around my fingers,” Bucky murmurs lovingly. “You’re gonna feel so good when I’m in you, I can just tell.”

“Bucky,” Steve keeps repeating, head falling from side to side.

 _Finally_ , he feels the pull out of Bucky’s fingers as his best friend wipes them hastily on the mattress and then positions himself between Steve’s legs. Scooping out more slick, Bucky works his hand on his dick as he spreads it over the skin. He carefully closes the tin and then takes a moment to stare down at him. Steve drinks in the sight; he feels both horribly and wonderfully exposed - lying there completely naked and flushed, with his legs spread like one of DUMBO’s whores as his loose and wet asshole is gaping slightly, desperate to be filled by Bucky’s cock.

“Steve…” Bucky whispers; reaching up with his clean hand and shifting the mood around them yet _again_ when he brushes Steve’s sweaty bangs off of his forehead. “I’m not gonna fuck you.” Steve gets a look of wounded confusion, especially when Bucky’s words are betrayed by him fisting his cock and then rubbing the leaking slit in small circles along Steve’s opening.

“You’re the oldest friend that I have, Stevie,” Bucky says, watching from his cock to Steve’s face. “You’ve been there for me through everythin’ – put up with all the shit I pulled,” he continues before leaning over Steve slowly and kissing him soft and slow. He pushes his cockhead against Steve’s hole just the tiniest bit, and the ring of muscles tries to pull it in but Bucky won’t let it. Steve’s trembling beneath him.

“You got me through my first heartbreak… You stood by my side through thick and thin…” He breathes, lips still grazing Steve’s and their noses bumping. He seems to hesitate but then pushes his hips forward and starts to force Steve’s entrance to stretch around him, accepting him inside. Steve gasps and Bucky closes his eyes, brows furrowing as he exhales slowly, sinking into him achingly slow.

The push in is glorious; Steve’s never felt anything like it. He clings to his best friend as Bucky continues to move into him, and it seems to take forever. He moans softly when his feels the older boy’s dick start pulling back and then shallowly slides back in him.

“Do you know how special you are to me?” Bucky exhales, voice shaky and already _wrecked_. He starts moving his hips more, making the thrusts deeper, though never less slow. “Do you know how much I care for you? You aren’t some dame I never plan on seeing again, Stevie… You mean everythin’ to me, you always have… I could never _fuck_ you, Steve… It would never… Never be _just_ that…”

Steve cries out softly when Bucky pushes all the way in and then rocks his hips gently from where he’s balls deep inside of him, causing his cock to press the right way against his prostate by accident. Bucky reaches behind him and gathers one of Steve’s hands, pinning it back down gently next to Steve’s head so he can entwine their fingers. Bucky kisses him again. In his mouth, Steve whimpers.

He suddenly feels so filled, so… he can’t explain it. He squeezes Bucky’s hand and licks softly along the brunet’s bottom lip. “Move in me,” he croaks. “Make me… Make me come, Buck… Please… I need it…”

Bucky grunts softly and obliges a bit, picking up a small amount of speed. “I know you do, baby… I’m gonna make you feel so good, you know I will…” He begins to thrust into Steve with deep, even strokes. The pleasure it brings both of them is almost overwhelming, causing them to pant roughly against each other’s opened mouths.

Steve gasps every time Bucky’s fully inside of him and then groans in mourning every time his hips move away – as if Steve’s body aches to feel him leave. It’s a truth Steve’s mind understands well because it draws from a place of experience. Steve uses the other hand still on Bucky’s rear to push against it, aiding in drawing him in deeper every time Bucky moves. His heart hammers away, so quickly that Steve grows lightheaded. Sweat already begins to dampen their chests; bead around their hairlines.

“Buck… Bucky… G-God…”

Bucky repeats back Steve’s name in a whisper, pressing as close as possible and then moving only his hips; nestling as far into Steve’s body as he can each time he slides back inside. His face is painted with pleasure; his mouth, the inability to close. Making a whimpering sound that resonates all the way down in Steve’s balls, Bucky buries his face into Steve’s neck as they rock together passionately.

Breathing out deep _auh_ ’s with every exhale, the blond tosses his head back, arching his neck in the hips that he’ll feel Bucky’s lips press against it. He isn’t disappointed. He hugs the brunet’s hips with his legs, finally untangling his hand from Bucky’s so he can palm Bucky’s ass with both hands and push down on it faster and harder. He feels like a furnace, burning from the inside, and Bucky’s just as bad; the heat is growing unbearable and is only made worse whenever Bucky drills right into his prostate, making him shout obscenities.

Steve’s heart feels so swollen with emotion, and he doesn’t know how to process any of it. He’d woken up that day (if he actually stopped to think about it, he’d realize that he actually would be unable to remember waking up at all, or anything _else_ that’d happened before the bar) and Bucky was dead. Now he was here and he was making love to him. His lower abdomen clenches and unclenches; his spine slowly rolling on and off the bed in rhythm with the undulation of Bucky’s rolling hips.

Bucky wraps Steve up in his arms, whispers things in his ear, _you’re so perfect… I need this… I need you… Don’t ever let me go, Steve…_ He breathes in short gasps and moves his hips faster; smothering Steve all the while as if terrified to lose the contact; as if refusing to lose Steve against him.

Steve can sense some sort of impending feeling of panic, and he realizes that that panic comes from the knowledge that their release is fast approaching and unstoppable. He breathes out Bucky’s name like a prayer, as well as pleas and praises to a God Steve _hopes_ isn’t watching, as he starts to rock his hips faster to keep up. Just as Bucky is holding him, so too does Steve bring his arms up to Bucky’s lower back so he can hug him tight to his chest. Leaning his head down, gasping loudly, he bites down on the brunet’s shoulder, earning him a hoarse cry from Bucky. The sound quickly dies down into a broken, low mewl.

Steve’s head is still spinning and he wants nothing more than for this to last for hours, for _day_ , _forever_ – because as long as it can, it means Steve won’t have to lose Bucky again.

“You feel… God… I… Bucky…”

“Like I belong here,” Bucky finishes breathlessly. “I belong here with you, Steve, I – _oh fuck, yes, Steve!_ ” His hips begin to thrust faster of their own accord, neither of them able to put a stop to it any longer. Every time Steve’s beautiful ass spasms around him, Bucky moans and then tries to replicate that exact angle so he can hear that gorgeous way in which Steve screams.

Steve’s dick is leaking precome all over his stomach. His balls start to draw up and fresh panic surges through him. Shaking his head quickly, he frantically grabs Bucky’s face and presses their foreheads together. “No, no, no, no,” he chokes out quickly. “Not yet… Please, not yet… Stay with me… Look at me, Buck, please…”

Bucky does, his eyes glassy and his expression so lost in the heated frenzy. It feels so good, but it hurts so much, because somehow Steve senses that when it’s over, Bucky will no longer be with him. Tears start to spill from the corners of his eyes as he releases broken, reluctant moans from his throat; some soft, some loud. His prostate hums with pleasure, and that pleasure is almost unbearable with every thrust. Steve’s desperate to hold on, terrified to let go, and agonized by what he _knows_ will follow.

“J… J…” he stutters, the words getting cut off when his chest constricts and he arches again with a loud cry.

“Steve… Oh… _fuck_ … I don’t want… Steve, baby, I don’t want to stop… I’m so sorry…”  Bucky’s lips kiss all over Steve’s face, everywhere they can plant themselves. His hair’s stuck to his forehead and temples and even though he’s shaking so hard – so desperate to come – that he’s actually twitching, his hips never relent and continue to plummet in and out of Steve’s body. “Steve… _please…_ Don’t let go of me…”

Right before the railing had given out and Steve had screamed Bucky’s name just in time to see him fall, the fleeting though, _I’ve got you_ , had passed through Steve’s head. He hugs Bucky to him tighter and chants breathlessly, “I’ve got you… I’ve got you… Oh, _God_ , Bucky!” His prostate is struck again and the jolt of pleasure that rockets up his back flies out through his mouth in the form of, “ _James!_ ”

Bucky comes first; the brunet makes a harsh, panicked sound but then is crying out hoarsely into Steve’s neck. As he pumps come into Steve, he spasms in Steve’s arms but continues to rock in and out of him as he rides out the orgasm.

“Steve,” he whimpers desperately. “Steve, I love you… Please don’t let me go…”

“Never…” Steve pants, eyes closed, and then his body betrays him and goes rigid. He falls off the precipice, making his vision go white as his moans rise in volume until he’s shouting Bucky’s name as he comes. For a split second, he blacks out, but when he comes back to only a split second later, he’s still streaking their abdomens with his climax and he wheezes – and suddenly he’s falling apart, he’s breaking, because he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t hold on ( _again_ ), and now it’s over.

Clutching onto Bucky in a panic, Steve cries and shakes and _still_ continues to come, the pleasure making his body buzz but the fear making his chest feel too tight. “Bucky… Bucky, I’m not – I… I’m not letting go, I’m right h-here, I’ve got you… Please don’t leave me again…”

But when Bucky pulls back and looks at him, almost frightened, and he whispers, “You love me too, right? Right, Stevie?” Steve doesn’t get his chance to say that _yes, he always has._

Because his eyes suddenly open and he’s staring up at a stark white ceiling, and he doesn’t know where he is or why he’s there, but there’s a baseball game playing on the radio that Steve remembers being at – and yet he’s _here._

* * *

It’s 1945 and Steve’s twenty-seven. He’s twenty-seven and he’s flying a plane down in the Arctic, as he promises a dance to Peggy Carter while thinking about how he’ll finally get to have that drink he owed Bucky. 

It’s 2012 and Steve’s still twenty-seven. He runs from a building he doesn’t know into the streets of a New York City he doesn’t remember, and he’s somehow still the same while the world has changed around him. And he realizes with a sinking heart that he missed his date.

**Author's Note:**

> Stucky-inspired gifs for today:
> 
> 1\. This dude who _definitely_ looks like Steve, yum:
> 
> 2\. This gif that's just plain erotic on its own:
> 
> 3\. This absolutely AMAZING gif which looks exactly like skinny Steve and Bucky. I don't even care if skinny Steve wasn't in this one, this gif is fucking perfect:
> 
> Source, as always, is the amazing blog, [steveandbuckypornlookalikes.tumblr](http://stevebuckypornlookalikes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
